Lioness Rampant by Tamora Pierce Page A

been more distinctive if she had tried.
    â€œI can disguise her Highness,” the Hag-Daughter said. “My women will make your packs seem less well cared for. What of the horses?”
    They conferred by glance, and Alanna shook her head. “We don’t have time to dye their coats. If it’s necessary, I’ll put an illusion on them and my cat till danger’s past.” She looked apologetically toward Liam, who shrugged.
    â€œLet’s start,” the Dragon said. “The sooner we’re gone, the safer everyone will be.”
    Thayet and the Daughter disappeared while the others changed into their most disreputable clothes. Novices saddled the horses, rubbing dirt into their coats, manes, and tack, then covering the saddlebags in patched canvas. Alanna’s lance and shield were put on Liam’s Drifter, since commoner youths did not carry them.
    When Alanna herself entered the courtyard, she barely recognized her own Moonlight in the duncoloredmare that awaited her. Using rawhide strips, the knight wrapped Lightning’s gem-studded hilt until only the battered crystal on the pommel showed. Buri, dressed as Alanna was in a boy’s shirt, breeches, and jacket, arrived next. She glared at Bother, who laid back his ears at the sight of her, and went to make friends with the pony she’d named Sure-Foot.
    Thayet was transformed into a sallow-skinned female. Her hair was dull, touched with gray, and a purple birthmark spread over her nose and down her left cheek. She was swathed in a shapeless brown dress. The whole effect was so painfully ugly that no one would look at her for long.
    â€œWe provisioned you,” one of the novices said, looking at Thayet with tears in her eyes. The packhorse, and your bags. Princess, the Goddess smile on you, wherever you go!”
    Alanna gripped the Hag-Daughter’s arm. “If you come west—”
    She smiled. “Farewell, Lioness.”
    They galloped out of the convent gates, riding hard. Distance, rather than conserving themselves and the horses, was the important thing for this part of their journey. For once Faithful kept silent about the joggling, hooking his claws into his cup and holdingon. Their route from the convent led past the city wall rather than into the city. The road was deserted by Rachia’s early morning visitors, so no one would witness their flight. Either the gods smiled or the Hag-Daughter had weather-workers at her command: Fog enveloped them, muffling the noise they made and sheltering them from sight.
    The ride to the border took three days, with Liam setting a pace all of them could handle. Alanna relinquished command of their expedition to him: Not only was he familiar with eastern Sarain and the Roof of the World, but he wanted to lead.
    The countryside was deserted. The normal inhabitants—trappers, mountain men, K’miri tribesmen, a few Doi tribesmen from the Roof—were not sociable at the best of times, and now they had fled the occasional patrols of southern armies. Alanna paid little attention to the deserted land. She worried about Thayet. She worried about herself. These days her old goals appeared silly—a child’s dream, not an adult’s. But what was she going to do with her life—after she found the Jewel—if she found it? What did acclaim matter if you had nowhere to go, nothing to do?
    Three days after setting out from Rachia, they came to the M’kon River that formed the Saren border.On its eastern bank was Fortess Wei, a Saren outpost—there was no single government east of the river. Beyond Wei the ground formed hills and small valleys. Above those hills loomed a huge, purple band that hung too steadily to be clouds. Alanna squinted at it, curious.
    Thayet brought her mare up beside Moonlight, observing the direction of Alanna’s stare. “The Roof of the World,” she said quietly.

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    THE ROOF OF THE WORLD
    O NCE THEY LEFT THE